Beethoven\'s Letters 1790 to 1826, Volume 1 of 2 written by Lady Wallace

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BEETHOVEN'S LETTERS.

(1790-1826.)

FROM THE COLLECTION OF DR. LUDWIG NOHL.

ALSO HIS

LETTERS TO THE ARCHDUKE RUDOLPH, CARDINAL-ARCHBISHOP
OF OLMUeTZ, K.W., FROM THE COLLECTION OF DR.
LUDWIG RITTER VON KOeCHEL.

TRANSLATED BY
LADY WALLACE.

_WITH A PORTRAIT AND FAC-SIMILE._

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

BOSTON:

OLIVER DITSON & CO., 277 WASHINGTON STREET.

NEW YORK: C.H. DITSON & CO.

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

Since undertaking the translation of Dr. Ludwig Nohl's valuable edition of
"Beethoven's Letters," an additional collection has been published by Dr.
Ludwig Ritter von Koechel, consisting of many interesting letters addressed
by Beethoven to his illustrious pupil, H.R.H. the Archduke Rudolph,
Cardinal-Archbishop of Olmuetz. These I have inserted in chronological
order, and marked with the letter K., in order to distinguish them from the
correspondence edited by Dr. Nohl. I have only omitted a few brief notes,
consisting merely of apologies for non-attendance on the Archduke.

The artistic value of these newly discovered treasures will no doubt be as
highly appreciated in this country as in the great _maestro's_ Father-land.

I must also express my gratitude to Dr. Th.G. v. Karajan, for permitting an
engraving to be made expressly for this work, from an original Beethoven
portrait in his possession, now for the first time given to the public. The
grand and thoughtful countenance forms a fitting introduction to letters so
truly depicting the brilliant, fitful genius of the sublime master, as well
as the touching sadness and gloom pervading his life, which his devotion to
Art alone brightened, through many bitter trials and harassing cares.

The love of Beethoven's music is now become so universal in England, that I
make no doubt his Letters will receive a hearty welcome from all those
whose spirits have been elevated and soothed by the genius of this
illustrious man.

GRACE WALLACE.

AINDERBY HALL, March 28, 1866.

PREFACE

BY DR. LUDWIG NOHL

TO THE

LETTERS OF LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN.

In accompanying the present edition of the Letters of Ludwig van Beethoven
with a few introductory remarks, I at once acknowledge that the compilation
of these letters has cost me no slight sacrifices. I must also, however,
mention that an unexpected Christmas donation, generously bestowed on me
with a view to further my efforts to promote the science of music, enabled
me to undertake one of the journeys necessary for my purpose, and also to
complete the revision of the Letters and of the press, in the milder air
and repose of a country residence, long since recommended to me for the
restoration of my health, undermined by overwork.

That, in spite of every effort, I have not succeeded in seeing the original
of each letter, or even discovering the place where it exists, may well be
excused, taking into consideration the slender capabilities of an
individual, and the astonishing manner in which Beethoven's Letters are
dispersed all over the world. At the same time, I must state that not only
have the hitherto inaccessible treasures of Anton Schindler's "Beethoven's
Nachlass" been placed at my disposal, but also other letters from private
sources, owing to various happy chances, and the kindness and complaisance
of collectors of autographs. I know better, however, than most
people--being in a position to do so--that in the present work there can be
no pretension to any thing approaching to a complete collection of
Beethoven's Letters. The master, so fond of writing, though he often rather
amusingly accuses himself of being a lazy correspondent, may very probably
have sent forth at least double the amount of the letters here given, and
there is no doubt whatever that a much larger number are still extant in
the originals. The only thing that can be done at this moment, however, is
to make the attempt to bring to light, at all events, the letters that
could be discovered in Germany. The mass of those which I gradually
accumulated, and now offer to the public (with the exception of some
insignificant notes), appeared to me sufficiently numerous and important to
interest the world, and also to form a substantial nucleus for any letters
that may hereafter be discovered. On the other hand, as many of Beethoven's
Letters slumber in foreign lands, especially in the unapproachable cabinets
of curiosities belonging to various close-fisted English collectors, an
entire edition of the correspondence could only be effected by a most
disproportionate outlay of time and expense.

When revising the text of the Letters, it seemed to me needless perpetually
to impair the pleasure of the reader by retaining the mistakes in
orthography; but enough of the style of writing of that day is adhered to,
to prevent its peculiar charm being entirely destroyed. Distorted and
incorrect as Beethoven's mode of expression sometimes is, I have not
presumed to alter his grammar, or rather syntax, in the smallest degree:
who would presume to do so with an individuality which, even amid startling
clumsiness of style, displays those inherent intellectual powers that often
did violence to language as well as to his fellow-men? Cyclopean masses of
rock are here hurled with Cyclopean force; but hard and massive as they
are, the man is not to be envied whose heart is not touched by these
glowing fragments, flung apparently at random right and left, like meteors,
by a mighty intellectual being, however perverse the treatment language may
have received from him.

The great peculiarity, however, in this strange mode of expression is, that
even such incongruous language faithfully reflects the mind of the man
whose nature was of prophetic depth and heroic force; and who that knows
anything of the creative genius of a Beethoven can deny him these
attributes?

The antique dignity pervading the whole man, the ethical contemplation of
life forming the basis of his nature, prevented even a momentary wish on my
part to efface a single word of the oft-recurring expressions so painfully
harsh, bordering on the unaesthetic, and even on the repulsive, provoked by
his wrath against the meanness of men. In the last part of these genuine
documents, we learn with a feeling of sadness, and with almost a tragic
sensation, how low was the standard of moral worth, or rather how great was
the positive unworthiness, of the intimate society surrounding the master,
and with what difficulty he could maintain the purity of the nobler part of
his being in such an atmosphere. The manner, indeed, in which he strives to
do so, fluctuating between explosions of harshness and almost weak
yieldingness, while striving to master the base thoughts and conduct of
these men, though never entirely succeeding in doing so, is often more a
diverting than an offensive spectacle. In my opinion, nevertheless, even
this less pleasing aspect of the Letters ought not to be in the slightest
degree softened (which it has hitherto been, owing to false views of
propriety and morality), for it is no moral deformity here displayed.
Indeed, even when the irritable master has recourse to expressions
repugnant to our sense of conventionality, and which may well be called
harsh and rough, still the wrath that seizes on our hero is a just and
righteous wrath, and we disregard it, just as in Nature, whose grandeur
constantly elevates us above the inevitable stains of an earthly soil. The
coarseness and ill-breeding, which would claim toleration because this
great man now and then showed such feelings, must beware of doing so, being
certain to make shipwreck when coming in contact with the massive rock of
true morality on which, with all his faults and deficiencies, Beethoven's
being was surely grounded. Often, indeed, when absorbed in the
unsophisticated and genuine utterances of this great man, it seems as if
these peculiarities and strange asperities were the results of some
mysterious law of Nature, so that we are inclined to adopt the paradox by
which a wit once described the singular groundwork of our nature,--"The
faults of man are the night in which he rests from his virtues."

Indeed, I think that the lofty morality of such natures is not fully
evident until we are obliged to confess with regret, that even the great
ones of the earth must pay their tribute to humanity, and really do pay it
(which is the distinction between them and base and petty characters),
without being ever entirely hurled from their pedestal of dignity and
virtue. The soul of that man cannot fail to be elevated, who can seize the
real spirit of the scattered pages that a happy chance has preserved for
us. If not fettered by petty feelings, he will quickly surmount the casual
obstacles and stumbling-blocks which the first perusal of these Letters may
seem to present, and quickly feel himself transported at a single stride
into a stream, where a strange roaring and rushing is heard, but above
which loftier tones resound with magic and exciting power. For a peculiar
life breathes in these lines; an under-current runs through their
apparently unconnected import, uniting them as with an electric chain, and
with firmer links than any mere coherence of subjects could have effected.
I experienced this myself, to the most remarkable degree, when I first made
the attempt to arrange, in accordance with their period and substance, the
hundreds of individual pages bearing neither date nor address, and I was
soon convinced that a connecting text (such as Mozart's Letters have, and
ought to have) would be here entirely superfluous, as even the best
biographical commentary would be very dry work, interrupting the electric
current of the whole, and thus destroying its peculiar effect.

And now, what is this spirit which, for an intelligent mind, binds together
these scattered fragments into a whole, and what is its actual power? I
cannot tell; but I feel to this day just as I felt to the innermost depths
of my heart in the days of my youth when I first heard a symphony of
Beethoven's,--that a spirit breathes from it bearing us aloft with giant
power out of the oppressive atmosphere of sense, stirring to its inmost
recesses the heart of man, bringing him to the full consciousness of his
loftier being, and of the undying within him. And even more distinctly than
when a new world was thus disclosed to his youthful feelings is the _man_
fully conscious that not only was this a new world to him, but a new world
of feeling in itself, revealing to the spirit phases of its own, which,
till Beethoven appeared, had never before been fathomed. Call it by what
name you will, when one of the great works of the sublime master is heard,
whether indicative of proud self-consciousness, freedom, spring, love,
storm, or battle, it grasps the soul with singular force, and enlarges the
laboring breast. Whether a man understands music or not, every one who has
a heart beating within his breast will feel with enchantment that here is
concentrated the utmost promised to us by the most imaginative of our
poets, in bright visions of happiness and freedom. Even the only great hero
of action, who in those memorable days is worthy to stand beside the great
master of harmony, having diffused among mankind new and priceless earthly
treasures, sinks in the scale when we compare these with the celestial
treasures of a purified and deeper feeling, and a more free, enlarged, and
sublime view of the world, struggling gradually and distinctly upwards out
of the mere frivolity of an art devoid of words to express itself, and
impressing its stamp on the spirit of the age. They convey, too, the
knowledge of this brightest victory of genuine German intellect to those
for whom the sweet Muse of Music is as a book with seven seals, and reveal,
likewise, a more profound sense of Beethoven's being to many who already,
through the sweet tones they have imbibed, enjoy some dawning conviction of
the master's grandeur, and who now more and more eagerly lend a listening
ear to the intellectual clearly worded strains so skilfully interwoven,
thus soon to arrive at the full and blissful comprehension of those grand
outpourings of the spirit, and finally to add another bright delight to the
enjoyment of those who already know and love Beethoven. All these may be
regarded as the objects I had in view when I undertook to edit his Letters,
which have also bestowed on myself the best recompense of my labors, in the
humble conviction that by this means I may have vividly reawakened in the
remembrance of many the mighty mission which our age is called on to
perform for the development of our race, even in the realm of
harmony,--more especially in our Father-land.

LUDWIG NOHL.

LA TOUR DE PERLZ--LAKE OF GENEVA,
March, 1865.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.

FIRST PART.

LIFE'S JOYS AND SORROWS
1783-1816.

1. To the Elector of Cologne, Frederick Maximilian.
2. To Dr. Schade, Augsburg
3. To the Elector Maximilian Francis
4. To Eleonore von Breuning, Bonn
5. To the Same
6. To Herr Schenk
7. To Dr. Wegeler, Vienna
8. To the Same
9. Lines written in the Album of L. von Breuning
10. To Baron Zmeskall von Domanowecz
11. Ukase to Zmeskall, Schuppanzigh, and Lichnowsky
12. To Pastor Amenda, Courland
13. To the Same
14. To Wegeler
15. To Countess Giulietta Guicciardi
16. To Matthisson
17. To Frau Frank, Vienna
18. To Wegeler
19. To Kapellmeister Hofmeister, Leipzig
20. To the Same
21. To the Same
22. To the Same
23. Dedication to Dr. Schmidt
24. To Ferdinand Ries
25. To Herr Hofmeister, Leipzig
26. To Carl and Johann Beethoven
27. Notice
28. To Ferdinand Ries
29. To Herr Hofmeister, Leipzig
30. Caution
31. To Ries
32. To the Same
33. To the Same
34. To the Same
35. To the Composer Leidesdorf, Vienna
36. To Ries
37. To the Same
38. To the Same
39. To Messrs. Artaria & Co.
40. To Princess Liechtenstein
41. To Herr Meyer
42. Testimonial for C. Czerny
43. To Herr Roeckel
44. To Herr Collin, Court Secretary and Poet
45. To Herr Gleichenstein
46. To the Directors of the Court Theatre
47. To Count Franz von Oppersdorf
48. Notice of a Memorial to the Archduke Rudolph, Prince Kinsky,
and Prince Lobkowitz
49. Memorial to the Same
50. To Zmeskall
51. To Ferdinand Ries
52. To Zmeskall
53. To the Same
54. To the Same
55. To the Same
56. To the Same
57. To the Same
58. To the Same
59. To Freiherr von Hammer-Purgstall
60. To the Same
61. To Baroness von Drossdick
62. To Mdlle. de Gerardi
63. To Zmeskall
64. To Wegeler
65. To Zmeskall
66. To Bettina Brentano
67. To the Same
68. To Zmeskall
69. To the Same
70. To the Archduke Rudolph
71. To a Dear Friend
72. To the Dramatic Poet Treitschke
73. To Zmeskall
74. To the Same
75. To the Same
76. To the Same
77. To the Same
78. To the Same
79. To the Same
80. To Kammerprocurator Varenna, Gratz
81. To Zmeskall
82. To the Same
83. To Varenna, Gratz
84. To Zmeskall
85. To Varenna
86. To Archduke Rudolph
87. To the Same
88. To Varenna, Gratz
89. To Joseph Freiherr von Schweiger
90. To Varenna, Gratz
91. Lines written in the Album of Mdme. Auguste Sebald
92. To Archduke Rudolph
93. To Bettina von Arnim
94. To Princess Kinsky
95. To Archduke Rudolph
96. To the Same
97. To the Same
98. To Princess Kinsky
99. To the Same
100. To Zmeskall
101. To Herr Joseph Varenna, Gratz
102. To the Same
103. To Zmeskall
104. To the Same
105. To the Same
106. To the Same
107. To the Same
108. To the Same
109. To the Same
110. To Archduke Rudolph
111. To the Same
112. To the Same
113. To Freiherr Josef von Schweiger
114. To Herr von Baumeister
115. To Zmeskall
116. Letter of Thanks
117. To the Archduke Rudolph
118. To the Same
119. To the Same
120. To Treitschke
121. To the Same
122. To the Same
123. To Count Lichnowsky.
124. To the Same
125. To the Archduke Rudolph
126. To the Same
127. Deposition
128. To Dr. Kauka, Prague.
129. Address and Appeal to London Artists
130. To Dr. Kauka
131. To Count Moritz Lichnowsky
132. To the Archduke Rudolph
133. To the Same
134. To the Same
135. To the Same
136. To the Same
137. To the Same
138. To the Same
139. To the Same
140. To Dr. Kauka
141. To the Same
142. To the Same
143. To the Members of the Landrecht
144. To Baron von Pasqualati
145. To Dr. Kauka
146. To the Archduke Rudolph

SECOND PART.

LIFE'S MISSION.
1815-1822.

147. Music written in Spohr's Album
148. To Dr. Kauka
149. To the Same
150. To the Same
151. To Mr. Salomon, London
152. To the Archduke Rudolph
153. To the Same
154. To the Same
155. To the Same
156. To the Same
157. To the Same
158. To Mr. Birchall, Music Publisher, London
159. To Zmeskall
160. To the Archduke Rudolph
161. To Messrs. Birchall, London
162. To Herr Ries
163. To Zmeskall
164. To Mdlle. Milder-Hauptmann
165. To Ries
166. To Mr. Birchall, London
167. To Czerny
168. To the Same
169. To Ries, London
170. To Giannatasio del Rio, Vienna
171. To the Same
172. To the Same
173. To the Same
174. To Ferdinand Ries, London
175. To the Same
176. Power of Attorney
177. To Ferdinand Ries
178. To Giannatasio del Rio
179. To the Same
180. To the Archduke Rudolph
181. To Mr. Birchall London
182. To the Same
183. To Giannatasio del Rio
184. To the Same
185. To Zmeskall
186. To Dr. Kauka
187. Query
188. To Giannatasio del Rio
189. To the Same
190. To Wegeler
191. To Mr. Birchall, London
192. To Zmeskall
193. To the Archduke Rudolph
194. To Freiherr von Schweiger
195. To Giannatasio del Rio
196. To the Same
197. To the Same
198. To the Same
199. To Herr Tschischka
200. To Mr. Birchall
201. To Zmeskall
202. To Frau von Streicher
203. To the Same
204. To the Same
205. To the Same
206. To the Same
207. To the Archduke Rudolph
208. To Giannatasio del Rio
209. To the Same
210. To the Same
211. To Hofrath von Mosel
212. To S.A. Steiner, Music Publisher, Vienna
213. To the Same
214. To the Same
215. To Zmeskall

FIRST PART.

LIFE'S JOYS AND SORROWS.
1783 TO 1815.

BEETHOVEN'S LETTERS.

PART I.

1.

TO THE ELECTOR OF COLOGNE, FREDERICK MAXIMILIAN.[1]

ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE,--

Music from my fourth year has ever been my favorite pursuit. Thus early
introduced to the sweet Muse, who attuned my soul to pure harmony, I loved
her, and sometimes ventured to think that I was beloved by her in return. I
have now attained my eleventh year, and my Muse often whispered to me in
hours of inspiration,--Try to write down the harmonies in your soul. Only
eleven years old! thought I; does the character of an author befit me? and
what would more mature artists say? I felt some trepidation; but my Muse
willed it--so I obeyed, and wrote.

May I now, therefore, Illustrious Prince, presume to lay the first-fruits
of my juvenile labors at the foot of your throne? and may I hope that you
will condescend to cast an encouraging and kindly glance on them? You will;
for Art and Science have ever found in you a judicious protector and a
generous patron, and rising talent has always prospered under your
fostering and fatherly care. Encouraged by this cheering conviction, I
venture to approach you with these my youthful efforts. Accept them as the
pure offering of childlike reverence, and graciously vouchsafe to regard
with indulgence them and their youthful composer,

LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN.

[Footnote 1: The dedication affixed to this work, "Three Sonatas for the
Piano, dedicated to my illustrious master, Maximilian Friedrich, Archbishop
and Elector of Cologne, by Ludwig van Beethoven in his eleventh year," is
probably not written by the boy himself, but is given here as an amusing
contrast to his subsequent ideas with regard to the homage due to rank.]

2.

TO DR. SCHADE,--AUGSBURG.

Bonn, 1787. Autumn.

MY MOST ESTEEMED FRIEND,--

I can easily imagine what you must think of me, and I cannot deny that you
have too good grounds for an unfavorable opinion. I shall not, however,
attempt to justify myself, until I have explained to you the reasons why my
apologies should be accepted. I must tell you that from the time I left
Augsburg[1] my cheerfulness, as well as my health, began to decline; the
nearer I came to my native city, the more frequent were the letters from my
father, urging me to travel with all possible speed, as my mother's health
was in a most precarious condition. I therefore hurried forwards as fast as
I could, although myself far from well. My longing once more to see my
dying mother overcame every obstacle, and assisted me in surmounting the
greatest difficulties. I found my mother indeed still alive, but in the
most deplorable state; her disease was consumption, and about seven weeks
ago, after much pain and suffering, she died [July 17]. She was indeed a
kind, loving mother to me, and my best friend. Ah! who was happier than I,
when I could still utter the sweet name of mother, and it was heard? But to
whom can I now say it? Only to the silent form resembling her, evoked by
the power of imagination. I have passed very few pleasant hours since my
arrival here, having during the whole time been suffering from asthma,
which may, I fear, eventually turn to consumption; to this is added
melancholy,--almost as great an evil as my malady itself. Imagine yourself
in my place, and then I shall hope to receive your forgiveness for my long
silence. You showed me extreme kindness and friendship by lending me three
Carolins in Augsburg, but I must entreat your indulgence for a time. My
journey cost me a great deal, and I have not the smallest hopes of earning
anything here. Fate is not propitious to me in Bonn. Pardon my intruding on
you so long with my affairs, but all that I have said was necessary for my
own justification.

I do entreat you not to deprive me of your valuable friendship; nothing do
I wish so much as in any degree to become worthy of your regard. I am, with
all esteem, your obedient servant and friend,

L. V. BEETHOVEN,

_Cologne Court Organist._

[Footnote 1: On his return from Vienna, whither Max Franz had sent him for
the further cultivation of his talents.]

3.

TO THE ELECTOR MAXIMILIAN FRANCIS.[1]

1793.

MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND GRACIOUS PRINCE,--

Some years ago your Highness was pleased to grant a pension to my father,
the Court tenor Van Beethoven, and further graciously to decree that 100 R.
Thalers of his salary should be allotted to me, for the purpose of
maintaining, clothing, and educating my two younger brothers, and also
defraying the debts incurred by our father. It was my intention to present
this decree to your Highness's treasurer, but my father earnestly implored
me to desist from doing so, that he might not be thus publicly proclaimed
incapable himself of supporting his family, adding that he would engage to
pay me the 25 R.T. quarterly, which he punctually did. After his death,
however (in December last), wishing to reap the benefit of your Highness's
gracious boon, by presenting the decree, I was startled to find that my
father had destroyed it.

I therefore, with all dutiful respect, entreat your Highness to renew this
decree, and to order the paymaster of your Highness's treasury to grant me
the last quarter of this benevolent addition to my salary (due the
beginning of February). I have the honor to remain,

Your Highness's most obedient and faithful servant,

LUD. V. BEETHOVEN,

_Court Organist._

[Footnote 1: An electoral decree was issued in compliance with this request
on May 3, 1793.]

4.

TO ELEONORE VON BREUNING,--BONN.

Vienna, Nov. 2, 1793.

MY HIGHLY ESTEEMED ELEONORE, MY DEAREST FRIEND,--

A year of my stay in this capital has nearly elapsed before you receive a
letter from me, and yet the most vivid remembrance of you is ever present
with me. I have often conversed in thought with you and your dear family,
though not always in the happy mood I could have wished, for that fatal
misunderstanding still hovered before me, and my conduct at that time is
now hateful in my sight. But so it was, and how much would I give to have
the power wholly to obliterate from my life a mode of acting so degrading
to myself, and so contrary to the usual tenor of my character!

Many circumstances, indeed, contributed to estrange us, and I suspect that
those tale-bearers who repeated alternately to you and to me our mutual
expressions were the chief obstacles to any good understanding between us.
Each believed that what was said proceeded from deliberate conviction,
whereas it arose only from anger, fanned by others; so we were both
mistaken. Your good and noble disposition, my dear friend, is sufficient
security that you have long since forgiven me. We are told that the best
proof of sincere contrition is to acknowledge our faults; and this is what
I wish to do. Let us now draw a veil over the whole affair, learning one
lesson from it,--that when friends are at variance, it is always better to
employ no mediator, but to communicate directly with each other.

With this you will receive a dedication from me [the variations on "Se vuol
ballare"]. My sole wish is that the work were greater and more worthy of
you. I was applied to here to publish this little work, and I take
advantage of the opportunity, my beloved Eleonore, to give you a proof of
my regard and friendship for yourself, and also a token of my enduring
remembrance of your family. Pray then accept this trifle, and do not forget
that it is offered by a devoted friend. Oh! if it only gives you pleasure,
my wishes will be fulfilled. May it in some degree recall the time when I
passed so many happy hours in your house! Perhaps it may serve to remind
you of me till I return, though this is indeed a distant prospect. Oh! how
we shall then rejoice together, my dear Eleonore! You will, I trust, find
your friend a happier man, all former forbidding, careworn furrows smoothed
away by time and better fortune.

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